


Journey Back to You, Back to Me, Back to Us

by Replicant94



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Green Dress, A Steamy Scene with Bookshelves, Angst, Christmas, Cute Married Couple, Female Friendship, Flashbacks, Gift unwrapping, Grief, Heartbreak, Hospitals, Miracles, Someone Chops Wood, Surprise Guests - Freeform, Time Travel, Undying Love, Waltzing In Snow, War, baking cookies, gift wrapping, mature language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Replicant94/pseuds/Replicant94
Summary: A forbidden romance gone so so wrong has left Rey Nessuno's world completely shattered. Unable to reconcile with her past, she can't even begin to consider her future. A trip into the movies turns into a trick of fate when Rey finds herself in another century. But does falling a hundred years forward truly give her enough space and time to let go? And what really happened on the most traumatic day of her life? As she finds herself welcomed into a new family just days before Christmas, Rey makes a discovery that could cost her everything she has left or give her back everything she lost.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	Journey Back to You, Back to Me, Back to Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reylo Hallmark Christmas Fic Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Reylo+Hallmark+Christmas+Fic+Collection).



She wishes for it to stop snowing, not because she dislikes the snow, but because she absolutely hates it. Snow, train stations, bright green, shortbread...so many things that she hates now. Rey remembers what it was like to not remember. For those first few weeks at the hospital, her memory was a blurry kaleidoscope of feelings just out of reach. The nurses and doctors addressed her slowly, as if they thought she couldn’t understand words anymore. They called her by the name that wasn’t hers: Walker. Rey shuddered at the recollection, at a grief very different from the one invoked by the snow. Her fingers brushed over the pendant laying just below her throat. She shoved the grief away, welcomed the bitterness in its place; it would be so much easier to not remember but somehow even lonelier. 

Someone cleared their throat behind her. “Miss Nessuno?” Rey turned to acknowledge Dr. George Lorian’s arrival. Her friend gave her a look of kind admonition, and she braced herself for a speech of gentle concern. When the other doctors began hinting her recovery was complete, with some even making not-so-subtle references to considering an asylum, Lorian has used his sway as Britain’s foremost surgeon to get Rey her job as a technician. He reassured Rey no one would make her leave before she was ready. What nature had denied Lorian in stature, it had made up for a thousandfold with charisma and brilliance. Rey was grateful for his friendship; his concerns never came across as patronizing. 

“Are you here to lecture me for missing the Christmas party again?” 

“That’s two years in a row, Miss Nessuno.” She shrugged. Who was counting? (It had been 620 days and 9 hours since…). 

“I was just enjoying the snowfall.” Rey regretted the angry edge in her voice, but it was becoming a regular habit. Lorian glanced out the window.

“Rey, why don’t you go out tonight? Just take some time for yourself. There’s a new musical at the pictures. I’ve heard it’s quite scandalous.” He added the last part as if dangling a bribe, knowing Rey could be a little unconventional. Even though she was sure their definitions of scandalous were worlds apart, Rey promised she would think about going to see the movie. 

The snow was still whirling around when she left a couple hours later. Rey stuffed her mittened hands into the pockets of her coat, briefly wondering if a couple more layers might have been wise. It was a surprising thought. She usually embraced the cold, the way it soaked all the way through her body into her bones. The numbness was welcome. Was this a sign then that she was leaving him behind? That one morning she would wake up and her first thought wouldn’t be his hand gripping hers. 

“NO!” Rey nearly jumped at the sound of her own voice. Instinctively, she looked for the sheepish faces of passersby who would have witnessed her outburst. The street was empty, though; there was only her and the glitzy lights of the marquee across the way. She wondered if crossing that street would be betrayal. Reluctantly walking towards the theater, Rey realized the snow had stopped falling. A glance up into the sky revealed a sparkling tapestry of stars, stupidly cheerful as if they didn’t know anything about life on Earth. Unbidden, she remembered a waltz under those same stars, remembered Benjamin’s lips softly grazing the back of her neck after he fastened the clasp on her necklace. His smile from the window of the train, the one that was supposed to carry him to safety. The grief roared into her chest like a thunderclap, and Rey grabbed for her pendant. She felt only her own skin. 

Rey couldn’t move. The theater doors opened; people began pouring out onto the sidewalk, chattering happily, chattering loudly, chattering as if the world was normal, and Rey needed to scream, needed to snap them all out of it. She tore off her mittens, felt frantically around her neck. Someone bumped into her and apologized; Rey barely knew they were there. There was no waking from this nightmare, and only the need to dig through the snow on the ground existed in her mind. Her fingers burned with cold. Rey was aware she was sobbing, a group of people nearby were caroling, and far far away church bells were ringing. A glimmer of silver from the street, and she could breathe again. She stumbled towards it, clinging to hope. Somewhere behind her a woman screamed or perhaps several women and men. Rey looked up into a light she had only a moment to realize was too close and too bright. 

\------

“Ridley’s was out of mini marshmallows, can you believe that?” Jen glared at the driver in the car next to her as if the oblivious teenager were personally responsible. 

“It is two days until Christmas Eve,” Cas pointed out. Jen gave her phone the same look the neighboring vehicle got, though her face immediately softened at the amusement in her husband’s voice. After all, it wasn’t his fault that the marshmallows he bought two weeks ago were all gone, or was it? He could have been less supportive of her fudge experiments. 

“Whatever. We’ll see how you like it when your yams are naked this year,” she grumbled. A definite snicker from the other end of the line.

“You’re breaking up. What was that? Who’s getting naked?”

“Real mature, babe.”

“You love me anyway. Now be careful driving home. The snow might start picking up, you know.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Jen tapped out a few safety cone and kissy face emojis at the stop sign then pulled up her “Holiday” playlist, every Dua Lipa song. She was rocking her head to rule# 2 (Don't let him in/You have to kick him out again) when a sudden burst of color flashed into her peripheral vision. The McGinley’s had added another garishly joyful Christmas inflatable to their overstuffed lawn (seriously had to be some kind of fire hazard). Well, Jen gave them a couple friendly honks anyway. They had no idea how lucky they were to be able to celebrate, to go all out with decorations, to pack in grandparents and aunts and uncles and even total strangers at their seasonal parties. Sometimes the excess still startled her, even all these years later. 

“OH MY GOD!!!!” Jen slammed into the steering wheel, barely aware she had hit the brakes. Cas was going to have a fit reminding her about wearing a seatbelt. WHAT THE FUCK DID THAT MATTER! She had just hit someone. Jen scrambled out of the car, nearly slipping on the road and half-wrenching her right ankle. It was nearly a blizzard with how fiercely the wind was blowing the snow. She saw the woman on the ground almost directly in front of the Jeep. Maybe she hadn’t struck her? A dizzy surge of hope. Jen prayed to gods old and new, furiously, as she checked quickly for signs of life. The woman was young, wearing a long white wool coat that was decidedly not chic. Far more importantly, she was breathing. Jen noted the coat was relatively clean, considering the fact they were on a dirt road. Another string of prayers that were most certainly intermingled with relieved curses. Jen shook the woman slightly, and her eyes opened.

Confusion. Sadness. Irritation. A range of emotions quickly passed over the woman’s face, before a weary indifference took their place. 

“Are you alright, ma’m? Can you tell if anything is broken?” 

“No. No, I’m fine.” Jen exhaled, but the woman bolted up immediately into a sitting position. “My necklace!” To Jen’s alarm, the woman began digging through the muddy snow with her bare hands, a sense of terror radiating so strongly from her that Jen’s hair stood on end. She collected her wits at once and reached for the woman’s hand. 

“Wait, stop, I’ll help you find it.” The woman paused, and Jen quickly pulled off her gloves, pressing them into the other woman’s hands. “I’m Jen.”

“Rey. I’m Rey.” Well a name was something; that was a good sign. Jen had several more questions, but she knew which one was important right now.

“What does your necklace look like?” For a moment she thought Rey might not answer but then she saw Rey was struggling to form the words. She blurted them out finally.

“It’s a silver chain with a pendant, a blue pendant.” Jen did not say what popped into her mind then, that finding a necklace in this snow and mud would be near impossible. She knew about impossible things. 

“I will look for it. Please go sit in my car though.” Rey protested, or at least tried to, but her chattering teeth sufficiently muffled her argument. Jen turned back to the ground, meticulously sweeping the ground from left to right. She noted every irregularity. Picked up countless twigs. Hushed the voice inside her brain, the one that was absolutely screeching at her. Instead she thought about how she would get Rey to leave if the necklace wasn’t found. In her gut, Jen knew it would be just about impossible, and she might have to resort to stronger measures to convince her. Well, Jen knew all about those too. At least one god must have heard her demands. She saw the blue. Picking it up reverently, wondering at its value to Rey, Jen turned over the little sterling silver butterfly with its cerulean gemstone wings. Goosebumps rippled up her arms in waves as she read the inscription.

_ To reckless Rey,  _

_ From your Benjamin. _

_ New Years Day, 1942. _

The past had finally caught up.


End file.
